Tales of Balsamic: Where the Wild Dreams Are
Twisted branches, like despairing arms,
Ensnare the lost, bewitched by silent charms.
Tendrils of ennui, worn on icy sleeves
A despondent dance, where hope deceives.
Withered leaves folded, parchment of lore,
Inscribed in their veins, tales we adore.
Whispers of horizons, distant and rare,
The koala and vinegar venture there.
Through obsidian abyss, an unlikely pair roam,
A realm of forgotten dreams, their own.
From this darkness, where ambitions take flight,
Hope kindles softly, a sliver of light.
'Neath gas giants, where dreams align
The koala sets his gaze, on balsamic wine.
A championship elixir, so sweet and true
Memories of past, vibrant and ethereal blue
Moonbeams ignite, a gleaming maize splendor
Light exploding, from one furry hope's ember.
Under the tapestry of night, sanguinity reclaimed
All from wild dreams, that we had named.
Note: Thank you to Brian for proving that a young Spring-aged Balsamic can rise from the darkness and age into a championship blend even on a stormy winter night in Houston. We all know those aren't the optimal conditions for achieving a good batch. Thank you for mentioned my weird rambling on the podcasts and that it captured an emotion and had some meaning to you. Your writing has that impact on me and so many here. That mine could make you feel anything at all is very special to me. As for what any of this Balsamic Vinegar shit actually means? That's for all of you to decide.
Go Blue. They did it.
January 14th, 2024 at 6:01 PM ^
Love it oh furry one.
January 14th, 2024 at 6:10 PM ^
This is surprisingly lucid, I hope your supply isn't dwindling.
January 14th, 2024 at 6:16 PM ^
Sober for a few months. Probably not the same.
January 14th, 2024 at 7:13 PM ^
The eucalyptus leaves haven’t fermented?
January 14th, 2024 at 7:15 PM ^
Damn near impossible in these temperatures. Gotta wait until things warm up.
January 14th, 2024 at 7:13 PM ^
Joe, the fact that you're the only koala I know doesn't detract from the fact that you're the finest koala I know.
January 14th, 2024 at 7:19 PM ^
I know several Eriks in Dayton, but I hate you by far the least.
January 14th, 2024 at 7:35 PM ^
Lol, thank you, my friend.
January 14th, 2024 at 7:34 PM ^
I love balsamic. Pour it all over me!
January 14th, 2024 at 7:37 PM ^
This was a koalaty post
January 14th, 2024 at 9:49 PM ^
Could be worse; in Iceland, they are getting volcanic vinegar.
January 15th, 2024 at 5:28 AM ^
So Jim Morrison is not dead and Ray has some work to do with a melody are my thoughts.
January 15th, 2024 at 10:22 AM ^
I want to scream this at the top of my lungs on our next trip to Raymond Island and see if the koalas yell back in a big “huzzah!”
January 15th, 2024 at 12:07 PM ^
Under the tapestry of night, sanguinity reclaimed
All from wild dreams, that we had named.
Legendary
January 15th, 2024 at 7:22 PM ^
When I Googled sanguine it said optimistic in an apparently bad situation. Second definition as a noun: blood-red color. LIKE BALSAMIC! I’m always learning things from MGoBlog. great job Mean Joe.
January 15th, 2024 at 10:09 PM ^
Wild dreams about Wild Things?
January 17th, 2024 at 12:48 PM ^
Zingerman's is having a sale on high end Balsamic.
January 17th, 2024 at 7:51 PM ^
This poem actually resonates with me, one week after the ascendance of fandom.
Maybe I've watched too much Xavier: Renegade Angel, and now it's all coming together
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